


Fleeting

by Alexwritesfics



Series: Stay [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, First Time, M/M, Rough Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:03:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5335124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexwritesfics/pseuds/Alexwritesfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a pity fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fleeting

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, my thirtieth fic on ao3! I've been agonising over what to do for this, but couldn't come up with anything spectacular, so I thought I'd just upload what I've been writing so far to keep the writer's block at bay. I understand Andy's reasons behind all of this even though he has no dialogue, hence why I'm writing a bit of a follow-up, but if you want this to be kept strictly ambiguous and angsty, you could always read this as a standalone.

It was a pity fuck.

That was the only thing Thomas could fathom as Andy pressed against him, solid and strong, Thomas by the wall as Andy pushed into him again and again and again.

Thomas Barrow didn't do pity.

But it had been so long, and he couldn't deny that it felt good to be filled again, like he was wanted by someone. Andy had put his hands on the underbutler's waist, trembling, waiting for Thomas to say something. There had been heat in his gaze that even Thomas couldn't ignore, and Thomas hadn't been able to keep himself from giving in any longer. And now, faster than Thomas could honestly keep up with, they were rutting like animals in the boot room, Andy's cock twitching and alive when it thrust home. Their uniforms were wrinkled and ruined by now, but Thomas didn't care - he didn't care about any of it anymore. He wanted this, right now, like he was young and free again.

Excitement buzzed in his veins. Thomas felt Andy tremble harder, his style lacking finesse but leaving Thomas without any real complaint. Thomas wondered vaguely in the back of his mind what it would be like to do this properly - gently in a bed with a naked Andy on top of him, being able to kiss the footman and run his fingers through the curls that were oh-so-close to him now. But that hurt in ways Thomas didn't want to acknowledge, so Thomas tried to think of nothing at all instead. There was something desperate about the way Andy moved that set Thomas' body alight.

But they had to burn out eventually.

Andy poorly stifled a moan as he spilled into Thomas, shaking like a leaf, like something more fragile than the footman truly was. Thomas felt heat, new and slick inside him, and that made him also reach his end. He bit his lip as he came, gripping onto Andy for an indefinable moment, fringe falling into his eyes. It had been hard for him to tip over the edge, as if he was frightened of his own ecstasy.

Finally, Thomas' hands relaxed.

There was silence, save for their mingled heavy breathing.

Andy buried his face in the crook of Thomas' neck despite the awkward angle, despite _everything._ Thomas felt overwhelmed by the intimacy of such an act, and so he once again tried to think of nothing. He was unsuccessful.

Andy still shook, and Thomas could recognise why.

It was fear.

There were voices calling him to serve dinner, distant in the fleeting bubble they had created for themselves but there nonetheless.

Thomas couldn't help it - he slipped arms around the footman, remembering how it had felt when he'd first done this, the shame, the gaping abyss of the unknown in-front of himself.

Andy cried.

~*~

Andy had kissed Thomas before he'd left.

Thomas knew it was still pity, but he couldn't help but run a thumb across his lips, remembering the feeling. Andy's face had been wet with his tears, but his lips were soft, sweet and eager all the same. Thomas couldn't for the life of him figure the footman out anymore. Lines had been crossed and blurred and collapsed altogether.

There was always the slim chance of something more, but Thomas couldn't bring himself to hope again.

Thomas smiled ruefully as he lit his cigarette, trying not to dwell too much on feelings anymore.

It was best to keep it strictly business.


End file.
